


Newt and the Griffin

by anonorama



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (sorry not sorry), Bestiality, Consensual, F/M, Griffins, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Orgasm Control, Sex with Sentient Animals, Smut, Vaginal Sex, for research!, or should i say fantastic beastiality?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9167413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonorama/pseuds/anonorama
Summary: Newt arrives at a remote village to assist with a horny griffin that has been terrorizing the townspeople. He finds a way to help both the griffin and himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is, without a doubt, the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written! oh well. i saw Fantastic Beasts and really liked it, but i have lots of specific Newt headcanons and don't really enjoy the way most portray him, and i'm hesitant to venture too far in the fandom... :P  
> aaaanyways hope you like this horribly yiffy smut brb goin to hell

Newt Scamander pushed through the forest undergrowth, holding his wand high to illuminate the path ahead. While it wasn't quite dark yet, dusk was beginning to fall and thick tree coverage made visibility poor – however, the beast Newt happened to be tracking wasn't easy to overlook.

He paused next to a particularly large tree, scored with deep claw marks at shoulder level. Taking this as a good sign, he continued in that direction, treading lightly and always alert. His footfalls were muffled through the rustling of leaves, and the occasional burst of evening birdsong.

The nearby village, quite secluded in the Scottish highland, had come directly to him for help dealing with a rather rambunctious griffin. As the townspeople explained to him, the griffin would periodically spend days at a time lingering on the village outskirts, rifling through rubbish bins and feasting upon livestock, unafraid of the spells sent its way by the residential wizards, who were becoming increasingly worried that the griffin's sociability would not go unnoticed by the Muggle families. Newt, passing through the area and ever eager to study a new specimen, agreed to find a solution, asking a few questions before heading out to track the creature in question.

Newt was not unused to dealing with griffins; while they could deal a very painful blow, for the most part he considered himself able to recognize when and how to approach them without consequence. He had some suspicions of the ailment afflicting this individual beast, taking note of the different stories the villagers had to offer. They claimed the griffin made its rounds in intervals of approximately three weeks, lasting about four to five days each, and it was just about due for another visit.

He paused again, frowning at the underbrush, and bent to examine underneath a patch of bush. Stowed away in the gloom were the remains of a fresh kill – a twisted leg, a wreath of skin, and a bloody streak leading to the leftovers of a mostly-eaten deer carcass.

 _This is very good news,_ Newt reflected as he rose to his feet, dusting off his coat. The griffin had hunted quite recently, and from this Newt understood that, unless he acted out of order to directly provoke the beast, he had little to fear from being ambushed or stalked. Additionally, the kill stash meant the griffin's lair was likely nearby.

Eyes lingering on a swathe of dust, marked with claw and paw prints, Newt headed deeper into the forest, ever cautious, wand raised ahead of him.

Naturally, with its immensely superior senses, the griffin noticed him first.

From about thirty feet away in the twilight, Newt heard a sharp cry. There was a rush of feathers, and without hesitation he hit the ground in a spray of dust, wand still at the ready in case anything was to go wrong.

With a powerful beat of its massive, mighty wings the griffin landed before him, the air disturbance ruffling his hair and coat. A louder shriek echoed from its maw, so loud and so _very_ close, and though he kept his gaze downcast he knew the creature was studying him with its piercing eyes.

Newt remained still, shivering with that familiar buzz of being in such close proximity to a fantastic beast. Once he had steadied his breathing, he flattened his upper body while slowly raising his head. He took stock of the beast - slightly below average size, tawny coloring, and, as he suspected, a female. Careful not to make eye contact, he kept his head raised and body lowered in a sign of submission. After a moment that felt like an eternity, the griffin backed away a few steps, her eyes never leaving his form, another warbling growl starting in her throat.

Gradually, ever so gradually, Newt edged into a ducked kneeling position, in order to retrieve a small bottle stowed in his coat pocket. The griffin snarled at every movement he made, a rough sound that caused him to wince.

"There, there, girl," he whispered, fingers finally closing around the glass. Continuing to avert his eyes from the creature before him, carefully uncorked the bottle – which contained potent male griffin pheromones he specifically brought along for this expedition.

As soon as the substance met the air, it elicited a tangible response from the griffin. She went slightly rigid, head cocked, bemused by this turn of events. Newt exhaled with relief as she haltingly shifted into a seated position, her head raised to detect the barest traces of this new smell.

_So far, so good._

Newt gingerly dabbed the substance into the crook of his elbows and jawline, his movements slow and deliberate so as not to excite the female before him, before stowing the bottle away again.

As soon as the village had described the situation to him, he figured the most likely explanation to be a lone female griffin, suffering through her estrus cycles without a mate in the vicinity, and diverting her arousal and boredom on the nearby humans. In terms of reasons why magical creatures bothered humans, mating cycles was a rather common one, and he wouldn't be surprised at all if this was the culprit.

However, he also knew a few things about griffin mating – though, indeed, he wasn't _as_ familiar with this species as others. He knew the estrus cycles of females tended to become more and more intense as time went on without selecting a mate – and he felt a tinge of worry, as the griffin's hard gaze pierced into him.

Obviously, this griffin would not be able to coexist with human society without a mate to keep her in check, and Newt deemed it more prudent to relocate her rather than introduce another griffin to the ecosystem – and the locals had given him permission to do this if necessary ("saved them from having to do the dirty work", though Newt cringed at their implications). After mulling over his options, he deemed it best to befriend this beast and cast her into a lull, so he could safely restrain her into his suitcase for transportation.

While Newt wasn't as familiar with griffin mating rituals, he knew they were quite similar to the hippogriff's (which he was exceedingly competent in dealing with). Going off this knowledge, and the excitement that accompanied learning about a new creature, he took a breath to steady himself and his jumbled emotions. Knowing the female's attention was fully centered on him as he reeked of male griffin musk, Newt rose to his feet, standing at his full attention before he finally looked her in the eyes.

They were a bright, piercing shade of gold, and a flash of challenge streaked in them for a moment before she deigned, a low crooning coming from her beak as she bent her forelegs before him.

Newt felt a familiar thrill of exhilaration as the creature yielded to him, a slow bond of trust beginning to spark between the two of them.

"Hello, love," he breathed, bowing back, and she chirred in tentative response. A grin split his face as he stared into her massive golden eyes, intelligent, powerful, yet temporarily giving him deference.

"Oh, hello, hello." Deftly stowing his wand in his sleeve, he outstretched his arms, bent slightly towards the ground, and hesitantly moved towards the female, never breaking eye contact, and continuing to speak. "My dear, I know you've had a rough few years here, hm? Everyone else flown away?"

The griffin made a delightful sound, like a cross between a bird whistle and feline chirrup. "I'll definitely help you with that, love, must be so hard to be out here alone, all by yourself, no one else able to give you what you need –"

He focused on his footing, making sure every step was directly in front of the other, not breaking eye contact, continuing to speak in a low, soothing voice. _One misstep, and her talons could open his throat in a heartbeat._

"– with those nasty village wizards tossing spells at you every time you came by. Even though you're just a poor frustrated girl, isn't that right?"

He was mere inches from her, almost nose to nose, and while she wasn't displaying any sign of defense, she hadn't yet relaxed into a pose of sexual submission. From these close quarters, Newt could smell the pheromones of her estrus emanating from her, a heady, intoxicating scent that clouded his mind.

She tilted her head, eyes softening, and a moment later flopped onto her back, outstretching her talons before her and exposing her belly to him, a questioning cry resounding from her beak.

"Attagirl." Newt relaxed as well, though still maintaining eye contact as he ran his fingers among her underside – and the effect was instantaneous. The griffin went still, toes clenching, her rump shuddering, and he realized the depth of her _intense_ sexual craving.

In one fluid motion, she rolled to her side and rose to her feet, winding sinuously past him, feathers and fur rubbing against the rough fabric of his coat, her tail twisting elaborately. She purred loudly. Her eyes, never leaving his, were full of questioning, of longing and desire. Yet again he saw the intelligence behind them, and realized that, without meaning to, he had gained this beast's utmost trust in the most intimate way, and he sighed as he realized how cruel it would be to betray her.

Here she was, suffering away for years without any contact from another of her kind until he arrived – effectively, her _mate,_ he had imitated, and she definitely perceived him as such.

"Oh, girl, I _really_ shouldn't do this," he murmured, hand running through the bristly lion fur transitioning to soft underdown – and he realized. Well, it didn't matter what Newt-the-human should or shouldn't do, right now he was a lusty male griffin, come to grant reprieve to this suffering lonesome female, and that was exactly how she viewed him and exactly how he should act, and like _hell_ if he was going to let this creature down.

_Those words, nagging in the back of his mind, those were human rules and humans never knew best, he knew._

Without a second thought, he unbuckled his trousers, the slight chill from the forest breeze adding to his already-tented arousal. The griffin tilted her head curiously, her gaze drifting southwards, and he found his breath was becoming rather hard to catch as he hooked the waistband of his undergarments.

The griffin's tail flicked around his ankles, and he freed his erection, a barely-perceptible sigh of relief escaping his lips (god he hadn't realized how hard and _pent up_ and excited he was). Crooning softly, the female griffin pushed her beak _dangerously_ close to his throbbing member, and he had to suppress a squeak of fear at seeing her razor sharp jaws so close to his sensitive area.

Her warm exhalations as she sniffed him thoroughly only strengthened his intense arousal, hot puffs of breath that sent shivers across his skin, and without warning a soft pink tongue emerged from her beak and delicately, _agonizingly_ caressed his length.

Newt's mind blanked into static, a wordless cry upon his lips, and the hot courses of pleasure snaked through his limbs. _Oh, that was good, that was DAMN good, fuck –_

Encouraged by his visceral reaction, the griffin continued lapping at his length, and the sight of her long tongue dragging across him was nearly enough to make him come on the spot. Shaking with raw pleasure, he nudged her head away and collapsed onto the cold ground, attempting to steady his breathing. She finally looked up at him again, a flicker of understanding passing through her gaze, and chirped questioningly.

Newt was well-versed in hippogriff mating calls, which were not dissimilar to that of the beast before him. He responded with one he deemed appropriate, a lilting, warbling chirr, and the griffin's ears perked.

She rushed at him where he lay and he yelped in a brief moment of terror, until she forced him into the dirt, her beak clenching the scruff of his coat as she mounted him, and began to aggressively hump away at his bare rear.

 _Dominance display._ Newt felt his hips jostle back and forth from the piston-like movements of the horny griffin. _Quite fascinating, really._ From above his head her heard her vocalizing, a pleasant noise somewhat deterred by the fact that her talons were digging into his wrists, and the heat and dampness of her sex pressing against his lower back.

He knew that she would never respect him if he couldn't assert his own vitality, and attempted to push her massive weight off his back – only succeeding in shifting her position, and rolling himself so he was pinned on his back and staring the griffin in the eye.

For some strange reason, perhaps the intelligence in her eyes or the tilt of her head or the compromising position he was in, Newt felt oddly… embarrassed. The griffin leaned down to nuzzle her beak against his neck, and a flush spread across his face and a warm feeling pooled in his chest. He pushed at the solid mass of warm fur and down, and she withdrew.

In a flurry of feathers, the griffin pranced backwards a few feet, with a twist of her body and flutter of wings that Newt took to be a mating dance.

Now he would have to be precise, he realized. He would do his best to imitate her movements. Rising to his feet, Newt stepped forward, eyes locked on the female. A delicate prance, a skip of his boots, fluttering his coat behind him, Newt landed adjacent to her.

Seemingly delighted at his performance, the female griffin flapped her wings, turned once in a circle, and adopted a pose of lordosis – crouching her upper body, her hindquarters raised and trembling, forepaws kneading the ground as she turned to look at him over her wings.

Newt was frozen for a moment. He couldn't believe how _carnal_ it felt, how lucky he was to become acquainted with her.

He took her tail in one hand, sliding down the powerful, writhing appendage. With his other he stroked her neck, lowering to her shoulder blades and down her tawny back, her purring vibrating the skin beneath his fingers. He ran his fingers through her feathers, leaning down to rub her flank, the coarse fur of her hind legs, and down to her soft underbelly. He paused right before her sex, and she squawked in protest at his teasing. Gently, so very gently, his other hand still holding her tail in place, he drew his fingers across her mound and slipped two delicate digits into her slick heat. She clenched around him, hissing, and he found himself becoming even more turned on.

Withdrawing his fingers and moving his hand to brace against her flank, Newt positioned himself to mount her.

_Worrying means you suffer twice._

He edged into her, crying aloud at the foreign feel of her walls around him.

The griffin tightened her talons into the ground, eyes locked on him, and he met her eyes. Oh, how lovely it was, to be hilt-deep sheathed in this _magnificent_ beast, sharing such an intimate ritual and such deep trust, and he almost forgot that it was necessary for him to move until she reminded him with a patient chirrup.

He tried to respond, but it seemed all of his mental faculties had dissolved into squawks as best he could to convey to her his pleasure. Slowly at first, painfully slowly, he thrusted back and forth, tilting his head back and crying out loudly at how _good_ it felt. She clenched around him in all the right ways, hot and tight, even though her anatomy was built to sustain that of a creature different from him, _somehow_ he melded perfectly into her and he could sense she felt it too. Her flesh was warm and solid beneath him, and he built up the pace, friction building and emotion intensifying.

The griffin bucked up underneath him, stretching her forelimbs, crooning in delight. Once again he was awed at the raw strength and brilliance of this creature, and, flushed, powered faster into her. Hot pleasure coursed through his limbs, and he cried out, overwhelmed at the feeling.

"Oh," he hissed, feeling her walls tighten around him, the intense bliss weakening his legs and he slumped against the furry slope of her back, panting as he continued to hump her. He was starting to feel dizzy from the fervor and magnitude of this gratification, almost as if the griffin was drawing it out.

His fingers clenched into her tawny fur, balling into tight fists as if the shaggy slope of her sides were the only thing anchoring him to reality, and if this caused her any discomfort she didn't seem to mind. Her tail swished violently, her furry rump bucking up against him, and the griffin gave a shriek of pleasure as she flattened her front half to the ground, pushing her rear higher to give Newt better access. He gasped, the slight shift sending raw heat through his belly, feeling so very close to orgasm but unable to attain it.

Through his bleary, sex-befuddled mind, he dimly recalled that female griffins refused to let their mates ejaculate until they had reached physical stimulation that caused them to ovulate. Usually this was accomplished through barbs on a male griffin's penis, however Newt was – regrettably – lacking in that regard.

Digging his boots into the dirt, his heavy cock throbbing deep within the female griffin, he reached underneath her belly to fondle her teats, which had become soft and sensitive in her estrus.

The griffin gave another sharp cry, her talons scrabbling for purchase as she continued to thrust herself up against Newt, her wings unfurling in shivering bliss.  Newt, absolutely shaking with his need for release, continued to stroke the griffin's nipples, crooning softly to her all the while, and she purred a low note in response. Her ears were flattened, eyes closed in contentment, and Newt desperately hoped she would let him come soon as he felt close to passing out from pleasure.

_How did I get myself into this?_

Breathing heavy, his chest heaving with effort, he withdrew almost entirely from her, breath shuddering as he saw the length of his shaft dripping with cum and fluid. She stiffened as she felt him withdraw, and he paused for a moment before slamming roughly back into her. His cock powered deep, her slickness easing his access, and the griffin gave a warbling cry in response. Just as quickly, he withdrew and slammed into her once more, building up a steady pace and rough friction as he thrusted into her.

The sheer pleasure was almost too much to bear; his vision was cloudy, mouth parted in a ragged pant, his arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up as he bred her.

Deep, _deep_ he thrust into the griffin, his cock begging for release, moaning loudly, pleasure escalating and his motions growing faster and faster, and the female griffin began to tremble under him.

Newt gasped out a strangled cry before he pulled out and, one last time, pushed himself into her, buried in her soft slick flesh, and her walls clenched in a way that made him see stars before he finally, _blessedly,_ felt himself peak. With a loud, animal yell, Newt pushed himself even deeper, emptying his seed into the female griffin, the longest and most intense orgasm he had ever experienced.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally slowed down from his climax, coming back to reality and slumping against her back in exhaustion. After he had caught his breath, he slowly withdrew from her for the final time, her tiny pulses around him still sending shivers across his skin. Her back legs and his thighs were slick with cum, and he had never felt so emptied or so satisfied.

Newt collapsed to the ground. His mind was still cloudy with post-coital bliss, and he absently stroked his flaccid cock, reveling in the aftershocks. He hoped that the female griffin wouldn't immediately turn on him to attack, however she seemed to be preoccupied as well. After sitting frozen for a few seconds, she had slowly adjusted into a leg-up position and was busily licking her nethers clean.

Running his fingers through his tousled hair, Newt watched the creature in front of him, a sudden rush of affection inspiring him to reach out and brush against the feathers on the side of her face. She started, raising her head to look him in the eyes, and he stared back unblinking. After a moment, she cocked her head, and shifted her position to nuzzle against his arms and lay her head on his still-bare lap.

"There, love," Newt murmured, his trembling fingers running through the delicate feathers. "No more difficult, frustrating heats for you. Oh, damn, we're going to do this a _lot."_

Though it pained him to do so, Newt removed his wand from inside his coat and cast a simple stunning spell on the creature – while she retained consciousness, she wouldn't be able to move for a few minutes. He didn't want to risk spooking her, especially now that they had developed such a lovely rapport.

Newt rose to his feet, clothed himself once more, and retrieved his suitcase from where it lay in the shrubbery. He had set aside a special temporary enclosure within it to ensure safe passage as he brought the griffin to her new habitat, but with just a _few_ modifications he could easily turn it into a more permanent residence. After all, he didn't have too much research on griffins, right? Best to study this specimen in detail while he could.

Once he had her settled in her run, Newt removed the stunning spell, and the creature rose back to life, stretching each of her magnificent limbs and turning to face him, chirruping in satisfaction.

He grinned, already beginning to feel aroused again. "Like the look of your new home, do you? I think you'll be more than happy here.”

The griffin rolled languidly on the soft green turf, turning to stare up at him with her large golden eyes. Newt crouched to her level. “You need a name, don't you, girl? How does Venus sound?"

The griffin whirred in response, twisting forward to thrust her head amongst the folds of his coat, and emerged with the vial of male griffin pheromones clasped in her beak.

As she dropped the vial into his astonished outstretched hand, Newt recalled one fact he had come across – griffins in heat often bred up to 30 times a day. Already she was rubbing her head against his leg, winding the length of her tail around him.

This was going to be _quite_ exciting research.

 

///


End file.
